Imperfect Timing
by Milia Timmain
Summary: Abrill Cousland holds a variety of titles, Queen, Commander of the Grey, Hero of Ferelden. When taking over the rebuilding of Vigil's Keep, she discovers a prisoner who has more than one tie to her past, Nathaniel Howe. **Awakening Spoiler**


**Chapter One: The Prisoner.**

_"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end." - Benjamin Disraeli_

It had already been a day Abrill would never forget. Surprise after shocking surprise greeted her upon her arrival to Vigil's Keep. With all the crazy thing that had happened in her short life, she should be used to such astonishments by now. Her armor was still splattered with the blood of darkspawn, when she ventured down into the prison. She barely heard the guard's greeting, as the man behind the bars lifted his head. The scowl that set across his face made her wince, from long forgotten memory and more recent open wounds.

"Leave us." Her voice cracked as she dismissed the guard. The prisoner stood as she opened the cell door, and it took all of her discipline to keep her composure.

"If it isn't the great hero, the conqueror of the Blight, and the vanquisher of all evil. Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?" Disdain colored his words, but the voice was all too familiar. It threatened to unearth memories that she had pushed back for years. Had it really been seven years since they had last seen each other?

"The Darkspawn probably think so." It was hard to even recognize her own voice, flat and emotionless. Perhaps she was trying a little too hard to keep her composure.

"Somehow I just thought my father's murderer would be more impressive. I am Nathaniel Howe. My family owned these lands until you showed up. Do you even remember my father?" The question made her take one step back, a slight show of weakness on her part, and she cursed herself inwardly for it. A long span of silence lay heavy between them, until finally she let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Has it been so long that you don't recognize my voice, Nate?" The helm was pulled from her head, finally revealing her face. The center of her brow was drawn together in a deep line. What was the best course of action here? The hatred of Rendon Howe reared its ugly head again, tension balling hard in the pit of her stomach. "Of course I remember your father, and I remember you."

"Abby?" His voice wavered, and his expression flashed regret tinged with affection. Not even her family had called her Abby, and hearing his pet name for her made those memories swirl again.  
_  
The celebrations had been going on for a week, a midsummer revelry. She may have been the daughter of a teyrn, but she hated the mingling, the showing of airs, during these events. Practically hiding herself behind a curtain when the dancing started, Abrill hoped no one would notice her. Another kind of dance, one with swords and daggers, had always been her preference. Surely, she would never be the proper lady her mother wanted her to be._

"Abby?" The voice startled her. Turning her head she saw Nate hiding behind the curtain opposite of her. He hated these formal affairs as well; at least they had that in common. His head tilted towards the balcony doors, and she nodded. Before long they were both standing outside, staring up at the sky.

"I heard my father talking to your parents about Thomas again." He was frowning as he said it, not looking at her.

"Well, your father will be sorely disappointed, as I absolutely despise your brother. I have my sights on _another, anyway." Leaning back on the rail, Abrill studied Nathaniel's reaction to that. It only took a moment for him to tense, worry etching into his face._

"Who? Cailan? I thought Anora was promised to him? Or perhaps you've chosen someone beneath your family's station. Perhaps an older man? Bann Teagan? I saw how he was eyeing you before the dancing began." He would have kept rambling, naming off various suitors who had tried to convince her family to arrange a marriage, but she interrupted him.

"Oh, it is an older man, but not much older than myself." She couldn't believe the playfulness in her voice, and she pushed off the rail, walking over towards him. "He's very handsome, very dark and mysterious, and well suited to try and tame my wild spirit."

She leaned up on her tiptoes, grinning at him as the shock washed over his face. She kissed him softly before taking a step back. She had always been too forward, and that would likely never change.

"Abby..." Nathaniel's voice held a hint of sadness and disapproval. "You know that it cannot be. As much as I want it."

"Of course it can! If your father feels I am worthy enough to marry Thomas, why am I not worthy enough to marry you? You're the elder brother anyway, should you not be married off first?" Their fingers were entwined together now, both hands clutched together at their sides.

"He has other plans, plans I am not privy to. Abby, I..." She leaned up and kissed him again to silence his protests, and he yielded to her completely. Strong arms encircled her waist, pressing her against him.

Neither were aware until much later that Thomas had been watching the entire time.

"...I came here... I thought I was going to try to kill you, to lay a trap for you. But then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left." The sadness in his voice snapped her back into the present.

"You came here to kill me?" Again it was hard to believe the tone in which her voice had taken.

"I didn't know it was you, Abby. I've only just returned to Ferelden, and the rumors are everywhere. You killed my father?" There was a pleading in his words, as if begging it not to be true.

Another long span of uncomfortable silence. The man that stood before her was the son of the man who had stolen everything away from her little more than a year ago. A man she had exacted rightful vengeance upon. Even though she had taken her retribution, part of her still felt hollow for the murder. The girl that had loved the man standing before her was long gone. In her place was a Queen and the Hero of Ferelden. How many masks must she wear? It was hard to find herself in everything that she had become.

"I did, Nate. He slaughtered my family in cold blood." His shoulders slumped and his eyes moved to look anywhere but her face.

"I suppose you still seek vengeance? I'm the last of the Howe's, as far as I know. We are pariahs now thanks to you. Funny how now it is you who decides my fate." The coldness stung her, like a slap.

"If I were to let you go, what would you do?" She couldn't kill him. Even though she had found love in the most unlikely of places, her heart was still tender towards this man. He was the first person she had ever felt love for. His father had destroyed that possibility long ago, another thing to add to his list of crimes in her mind. "Or perhaps you would like to work to redeem your family's name?"

"Oh, yes, I'll go straight the the Bastard King and beg to be allowed into his service. I'm sure he'll love that idea, allowing a traitorous Howe back into the service of Ferelden."

"He may not, but the Queen might find use for a noble man who is nothing like his father. I know you, Nathaniel; you were never like him." She waited for the words to sink in, wondering what effect they would have.

"You have been busy while I've been gone. Queen as well as Commander of the Grey, Hero of Ferelden. Seems you are collecting titles much like my father tried to do." There was so much anger in his voice now, she wondered if this was worth it. Would he forgive her? Did she want to be forgiven? Before she loved him, he had been her best friend. Would all of that die here and now?

She stared at him, trying to put on a pretense of being intimidating. Then she turned, locking the prison door again.

"I have made my decision," she said, and left to have the guard summon Varel.


End file.
